


Love Bites

by owlaholic68



Category: Monsterhearts (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Human/Vampire Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24406522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlaholic68/pseuds/owlaholic68
Summary: (So do I)
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 13





	Love Bites

Sabine dodges a sailor’s carelessly outflung hand emphasizing some ridiculous story, ducks beneath another waitress’ tray, and hops around a sticky spot on the floor where someone spilled ale an hour ago and nobody bothered to properly clean it. She gets to the back.

Her mother, the manager of this liquor store-slash-alehouse, catches her arm.

“Sabine, take this out to the table in the corner,” she orders. “Quick as you can, and _polite,_ please.”

The table in the corner? Sabine hadn’t noticed them, too busy running orders for the middle-of-the-room crowd. She peeks over.

A small table booth shoved into the corner out of the way of the rowdiness. Five people sit at it: a man with long shaggy black hair who is trying to catch every server’s eye, another man who _glitters_ for lack of a better word. All of the sailors have been trying to catch _his_ attention. Next to him is what looks like a very old kid with blue hair who keeps babbling and asking stupid questions, judging by the glittery man’s eyerolls. Another guy sits next to them but he’s mostly in shadow so Sabine barely notices him anyway.

And the other person is staring right back at Sabine.

She squeaks and ducks back. Face burning hot because that was not a _what the fuck are you doing_ look but instead a _hungry_ one. Sabine’s quick glance had only caught pink hair, dark skin, and sharp eyes. She wants to see more.

“Sabine,” her mother patiently reminds her. “What part of _quick_ did you not get?”

“Sorry, mom.” Sabine takes the tray, which only has four drinks. Her mind doesn’t grasp the disconnect in numbers. She does, however, notice that the drinks are _nice._

The _Segalle Party Store_ mostly serves shit in a glass, honestly. They’re not in a great part of town and people usually don’t have abundant coin. Customers would prefer to get as drunk as possible without much regard for taste.

But on the tray sits a glass of expensive finely aged wine, two glasses of a fruity mead cocktail, and a glass of apple cider (plain and not fermented, Sabine notes with a sniff).

She picks up the tray and deftly weaves through the crowd. She’s small; that helps her reach the table without issue.

“Good evening,” she chirps with a sunny smile. Her mother hadn’t told her whose drinks were whose so she will have to use her best guess and dearly hope she’s not mistaken.

Mead cocktail for the black-haired guy who is now looking at _her_ with such an openly lustful gaze it almost makes her want to slap him.

“Thank you, dear.” He reaches up to tweak one of her pigtails. “What’s your name? You have the most gorgeous hair.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” Sabine self-consciously flips her pigtails behind her shoulders, well out of reach. “My name is Sabine.”

“Sabine.” He gives her an unashamed up-and-down look. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Um…”

“River, don’t,” a soft voice admonishes. The woman with the pink hair who was also staring. Sabine very carefully does not look in her direction, afraid that her own burning cheeks have already betrayed her. “Back off.”

He rolls his eyes. Apparently his name was River – odd, but Sabine has heard weirder. “Fine, Bonnie.”

Bonnie. Finally a name to _that_ face.

Back to waitressing. Sabine gives the cider to the not-kid and the other mead drink to the glittery man, reserving the wine for the woman. She steps a little closer than she needs to and leans forward to gently place the glass, close enough that she can hear Bonnie’s quiet hum.

A hand is just-barely placed on Sabine’s hip. Freezing cold even through her clothing.

Bonnie licks her lips, giving Sabine a stare that implies she would devour Sabine right then and there if she could.

Oh, and how Sabine wishes she could…

“Your drink, ma’am,” she whispers. Finishes setting down the glass and gives a coy smile.

Someone clears their throat. Sabine jumps.

“Forgot my drink,” the other man in the shadows grumbles.

“Oh, Peter, again?” Bonnie says. There is a note of playful condescension in her voice.

“I – I’m sorry, my mother always forgets something. At least she didn’t give me anything wrong this time,” Sabine says to lighten the tight annoyance and resignation of the other man – Peter, Bonnie had said. She puts a hand on Bonnie’s shoulder to help herself stand up straight. Runs a finger down the side of her neck from the ear to the collarbone.

Bonnie’s hand on her hip tightens. Her fingers dig in, sharp. Sabine swears that she stops breathing for a moment.

“If you’re done distracting the poor lady, Bonnie, can you just let her do her fucking job?” Peter mutters, almost to himself.

Bonnie rolls her eyes and smirks at Sabine. “If you insist.”

“Wh-What can I get you, then?”

“Good whisky, if you have it.”

“Alright, I’ll go get that for you right away, sir.” Sabine gently extracts herself from Bonnie’s grip and fetches it. Her mother has some nice Irish cask-aged whisky in the back.

When she comes back and serves it, Bonnie’s hand finds her again, this time with just a single finger on her cheek. It’s enough to make Sabine freeze.

“Sabine. You look overworked,” Bonnie murmurs. “Are you always so red? You could use a break. A breath of fresh air.”

Weird to talk with Bonnie’s hand still on her face. Sabine simply nods, shoots a look at Bonnie that says _I know what you’re suggesting,_ and sways her hips on her way out the back door of the alehouse.

Bonnie is quick to follow.

Sabine has barely stepped out the door, closed it behind her, and taken a breath of the smoky air when arms wrap around her waist from behind.

She squeaks and twists to meet Bonnie’s grinning mouth as it lowers.

Now it’s Bonnie’s turn to make a noise of surprise and confusion as Sabine kisses her. But she recovers and kisses back, hands moving to Sabine’s neck to brush her hair away and to her hip again to hold her in place.

“You are…surprising,” she murmurs when Sabine pulls away. Licks her lips.

One of her teeth is…is a fang. Sabine’s heart stops for a moment for starting up again, this time at a breakneck race.

Bonnie is a vampire. Bonnie was _not_ going to kiss her before. She was going to _bite_ her.

“I – I-” For once in her chatty life, Sabine is speechless.

 _Please don’t bite me and kill me,_ she wants to beg.

 _Please do bite me,_ she also wants.

Instead she says nothing and does nothing.

Bonnie leans down again. “Sabine, you are adorable. That is why I am giving you five seconds to run.” Her hand on Sabine’s hip leaves, giving her chance to go.

One. Two. Three.

Sabine does not run. She swallows hard, tilts her head to the side, and drapes her arms around Bonnie’s neck.

“Be gentle,” she whispers back, then closes her eyes.

Honestly, the bite is not _that_ bad. Sabine has had worse: her mother tried to train her in the kitchen once and Sabine somehow stabbed herself so badly that she had to be rushed to a healer. It hurts, of course, but not as bad as people who have survived vampire attacks say.

Okay, it’s not bad at all. To her extreme embarrassment, Sabine moans.

Bonnie chuckles through a mouthful of blood, of _Sabine’s_ blood. She puts arms under Sabine’s thighs and lifts her to get a better angle.

“Bon…” Sabine gasps and wraps her legs around Bonnie’s waist. This is like the passionate embraces of romance books, except they’re not even kissing right now.

The feeding doesn’t last long, just enough to make Sabine a bit light-headed. When Bonnie pulls back and gently presses a bandage to her neck, Sabine continues to let herself be held, clutching Bonnie close and pressing kisses to her neck in a slightly ironic twist.

“There. Gentle.” Bonnie tucks a piece of hair behind Sabine’s ear.

“Gentle,” she agrees. “But I’m a bit dizzy, Bon, I might not be able to walk steady.” Sabine lets the statement sit for a few seconds, pouting and giving Bonnie sad eyes that resemble the neighbor’s new puppy. “I might need to be carried up to my room. But, um, if you don’t think you’re up to it, that’s fine too…”

Bonnie smiles that tiger’s smile again. She shifts Sabine, easily holding her up with barely any visible effort. It’s obvious what Sabine is doing. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Sabine chirps. She squeaks when Bonnie tosses her in the air just to show off, catching her with only one arm so she can put the other up Sabine’s hitched-up skirts.

This lady is dangerous, sharp, and can carry Sabine with one arm – there’s no way that Sabine is _not_ going to fuck her.

So that’s exactly what she does.

**Author's Note:**

> ...I don't know. I actually don't know where this idea came from, but here it is...
> 
> Title from "Love Bites (So do I)" by Halestorm.


End file.
